When I yell, you roll your eyes
and I appreciate it more each time.
You just don’t take me seriously,
and that’s something I never thought I’d want to find.
Now I can’t imagine wanting anything different.
We take long walks
and I know I just talk a whole lot.
But you pretend to care about my musings,
and I don’t let you get a word in on top of my thoughts
even though most are completely irrelevant.
We’ve been this way
for three sets of seasons,
and I just don’t understand why you stay
even though I’m questioning and difficult.
You don’t seem to find those traits important.
I’m stubborn and introverted;
you’re understanding and outgoing.
I guess it wouldn’t hurt me
to be a little less like myself sometimes.